


Marked

by GreenPhoenix3



Category: The Greatest Showman (2017)
Genre: AU, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Period-Typical Racism, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-23
Updated: 2018-03-23
Packaged: 2019-04-06 21:29:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14065959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreenPhoenix3/pseuds/GreenPhoenix3
Summary: Some say that a mark is a gift from fate itself. Others say that it is a limit that needs to be removed. But can it rewrite the stars?Carlwheel Soulmate Mark AU!!





	Marked

Anne remembers the first day her mother told her about her mark. Anne ran to her mother crying after she was spat on for being a ‘dirty nigger’.

“Don’t cry my dear.” Her mother would say as she held Anne. “You have a soul mark. Somewhere out there, you are someone’s world, their princess. You might dream about them, and they about you. Either way, to them, you are beautiful despite the color of your skin.” Anne would calm down at the story, believing it with every fiber of her being. “But for now, you are mine and W.D.’s princess, okay?” Anne nodded as her mother kissed her forehead. After that, every time she felt sad, her mother would tell her how lucky she was to have a soul mark. But as Anne waved goodbye to her mother, riding far away from the man with the whip, Anne wondered why was she so lucky to have a soul mark, but not lucky enough to keep her mother.

* * *

Phillip heard the whispers of soul marks. He would even stay up late and listen to the servants talk about them. How a soulmate would dream of the other one, the deep ache that lasts without them by your side, how the world gets brighter with them. He loved staying up and hearing those stories. It made him hope. He remembered seeing one of the servants with one. It was a white tulip on his wrist. He had it covered up with a red bandana. He asked his parents about it, why the man had covered it up, why the stories were whispers in the night. That night he learned to never ask his parents about it again, and he never saw that servant again either.

* * *

The first time Anne dreamt of her soulmate, it’s flashes and pieces. But she remembered the color blue. She was so excited that she had W.D. draw her mark for her, since it was on the back of her left shoulder and was hard to see. It was an outline of a bird. W.D. told her it was a funny bird, because it was a blue bird with a pink stomach. Anne laughed and the rest of the day seem brighter. Until she knocked into a white man while running errands for their aerial instructor. She was the one on the ground, yet he spat at her. Anne looked at his ice blue eyes, and froze. W.D. wanted to do something but Anne put a trembling hand on his arm. She begged to go home. That night after their secret lessons, Anne went further. Higher and higher, till she slipped. W.D. asked her if she was alright. It was the first time Anne lied to him. She cried to herself to sleep that night, scorning the color blue. The blue in her dreams. The blue in the sky. The blue that belonged to the eyes of a white man who would only see her as dirty.

* * *

It was hard fitting in. Phillip tried, he really did. He laughed at the soul mark jokes, he ignored the sinking feeling when he agreed that the upper class didn’t need soul marks, he talked with the other boys about pretty girls even when he didn’t think they were pretty, he didn’t even try to look at his mark. He tried fitting in. But when one of his so called friends hits a servant girl and calls her a stupid dirty servant, at a party no less, Phillip was tired of fitting in. He helped the girl up. She had such beautiful skin, a deep rich mocha, like the one in his dreams. He couldn’t help but remind her that she was beautiful. The girl seemed even more frighten at that statement and ran. Phillip was left standing in a party, everyone whispering about him. That was the first time he was called a scandal, a negro lover. Needless to say, his parents heard about it. They blamed his mark, that he just needed it gone and he would be fixed, he would be normal.

* * *

Anne loved trapeze. In the air she was free. Free from the insults, the stares, the shoves, the pain, and her mark. In the air all that mattered was her brother, herself, and the bar. Although. she always had to come back to the ground. She had to face reality. Some people hated her because of her skin color and there were girls who became jealous when they saw her mark (Anne was afraid of who her soulmate was but she was not ashamed that she had one). For that she had to deal with dirty clothes and torn practice outfits all the time. The worst thing she had to learn to deal with was the pain from her mark. Her trapeze instructors, a nice elderly couple from France, and W.D. were great help with those. When she started her monthly bleeding the aches came. A hollow feeling in her chest that made it hard to breathe and her left shoulder was always sore. Then almost a year after the aches started, she felt a great burning on the back of her shoulder. She had screamed and fell to the floor, terrifying everyone. Their instructors said that the pain was probably from her soulmate. It hurt her heart that her soulmate was suffering but it gave Anne hope. Her soulmate suffered and survived (she could feel it W.D.). Maybe her soulmate could survive them. Maybe he was foreign like the instructors. At night, she even began to dream that he would fly with her.

* * *

 Phillip did find a true friend in his life, whiskey. Whiskey helped him play the part of unmarked socialite, it kept him normal. Whiskey helped him smile through the jokes, it kept the pain down when he saw another couple in the street, it kept the dreams at bay, it kept him from screaming at his annual appointments, and it helped him ignore the squeeze in his heart and the tingle in his left shoulder when he was with other girls for the night. Whiskey was his perfect companion. Except whiskey didn’t get rid of the random pains in his feet or his hands. It didn’t get rid of the reflection in the mirror he hated. It didn’t get rid of the curiosity. One day after his appointment, Phillip braved a look. He just had to know what the mark looked like. He turned to see the back of his left shoulder in the mirror, and cackled. The skin around his scar was red and inflamed. A jagged circle of dry black burnt skin surrounded the supposed mark. To Phillip, it looked more like a smeared scar. The blue of what looked like a bird, was a sickly blue like a bruise. The chest of the bird was a burn pink and the black edges seemed to crack and peel. Overall, it was an ugly mess. Phillip’s manic laughter continued as he fell to the ground. His laughter turned into cries of pain and anger. Reality came crashing into Phillip, making it hard for him to breathe. Everything about him was just wrong. He was wrong for having a soulmate, he was wrong for how he saw things, he would be wrong to his soulmate because his mark was becoming a messy scar. That night whiskey was his best friend and Phillip wondered if he could just drown in it. He would never have to face his reflection again, nor would he have to face the rejection of his soulmate. It was a tempting idea, but the whispers of the pain and heartache that came with the death soulmate haunted him. Phillip put down the bottle, just for the night.

* * *

 When Anne met P.T. Barnum, she knew her world would change. Her passion was becoming her job and she was meeting people like her, outcasts of society. Even W.D. was having fun. Then one day her mark would not stop buzzing. It made her antsy for the performance. She knew something was going to happen but didn’t know what. She hoped that when she was in the air it would disappear. Instead it increased, until she saw him. In the sea of faces she saw blue. The blue of the endless sky, the blue of hope, the blue of her bird, the blue of her dreams. She saw his blue eyes. The world stopped as heat enveloped her. The kind of heat that you cuddle into, the kind of heat that made you feel safe. She knew this handsome white man with perfect hair, red-rimmed beautifully blue eyes, and strong jaw was her soulmate. Then the world kept spinning and the show went on. W.D. noticed how Anne went from antsy to wanting to be alone, to think, to plan. But before he could say anything, P.T. was calling them.

    “W.D., Anne!” They turned to him, and Anne locked eyes with him, her soulmate. “Let me introduce you to my newest hire, Phillip Carlyle.” Carlyle, Anne had heard of that name. It belonged in upper class parties, not the museum of freaks. Anne eyed Phillip.

    “And what is your act, Mr. Carlyle?” The heat within her made her bold. Or maybe it was the way he kept his beautiful eyes solely on her.

    “I-I don’t have an act.” He stammered. The sincerity, and maybe his adorableness, made her smile.

    “Everyone has an act.” Anne sauntered away. The way his eyes stayed on her as she left made Anne feel, pretty.

* * *

 The night Phillip met Phineas Taylor Barnum, was one of the bad nights. He was drinking to alleviate the way his scar tingled, but he also had a party to go to. He left it early, tired of pretending and playing a role, but hoping to disappear. He didn’t mind even if he disappeared from life. Then here comes Phineas, a man so bold to show his top hat mark and talk about his marked wife Charity. Phillip heard whispers about how she ran off with her mark instead of stay with her class. Now here was her husband luring him to join the Circus. He plays his role, but he would be lying if he said he wasn’t interested. Finally, with his ten percent cut promised, because Phillip knew this man was a gambler, he agreed and went to see the show. They went backstage, and Phillip felt life. He saw incredible feats and people, that showed their marks openly if they had them. Then they went up somewhere, and she flew in. At first Phillip thought he had succeeded in drowning himself in whiskey. For he saw the beauty of his dreams, the mocha skin and dark chocolate eyes. He even saw the pink he knew his mark should have been. For a moment, everything in his world was right because she was here staring at him, his angel. Then she was gone and all Phillip was left with was the warmth that he felt as he saw her.

“Who was that?” Phillip asked, hoping that he wasn’t hallucinating. Phineas’ catlike grin sobered Phillip up some and as they went back downstairs, Phillip felt like a kid. There was wonder all around him. Then he turned when Phineas called a W.D. and Anne. Phillip turned to see his angel. She was real.

    “What is your act, Mr. Carlyle?” Phillip was even entranced by her silky voice.

    “I-I don’t have an act.” Phillip found that his usual silver tongue was lacking in her presence but he didn’t care. She was here, and real.

    “Everyone’s got an act.” Phillip’s heart swelled at her boldness. Anne, sauntered away and Phillip turned and watched her go. His heart fluttered when he caught a glimpse of a blue bird from under her costume. She was his soulmate, and she was better than anything he could hope for. That night, he let himself dream.

* * *

 He wasn’t the one. She knew it. He was a rich white upper class man. Everyone said he was just having his fun with them, especially W.D. Even she figured that was the case, but she couldn’t get rid of that feeling of belonging she had when he was around. She couldn’t help but be elated every time she felt his eyes on her. It was tug of war between her heart and brain. So she decided to show her mark one day. She asked W.D. to watch for Phillip’s reaction. She knew the look he gave her, but she reassured him that it was just to see what he would do. So she practiced with the top that showed off her shoulders. Like she knew he would, he came and watched her. This time, she felt her stomach drop, and it wasn’t because she was doing new tricks. She turned to see a glimpse of despair on Phillip’s face before he smiled at her and ran out the room. She looked to W.D. and he looked away from her. Anne cried herself to sleep that night. He saw her mark and ran. He wasn’t the one. He avoided her, and maybe she avoided him. Then he comes in, so good with the Barnum girls that she couldn’t stop the smile on her face. Then he smiles like a hero as he presents an invite, from the Queen of England.

    “I pulled a few strings.” He said simply. Anne’s heart fluttered. Then she glanced at W.D. and reality came crashing down in her.

    “Are we all invited?” She asked sternly. Phillip looked at her. Then he glanced at the others.

    “Well, I just guess I have to tell her that we all go, or none of us go.” He looked back at her, and the sincerity in his eyes made her heart skip a beat. This man would give her the world, treat her like a princess. For once, Anne hoped, in her head and heart, that this man was the one.

* * *

Phillip watched Anne. He couldn’t stop. She was amazing. He learned that she was stubborn, loved trapeze, a risk taker, brave, and so beautiful even on days she worked out till sweat made her skin glisten. It made Phillip’s heart beat faster to think that she was his destiny, but it also made him scared. He did look at his scar again, and somehow it had gotten even uglier. The burns and the scars from his appointments made his skin wrinkly and red, especially under the now deformed bird. Worst yet, the blue was still a bruise blue and the pink a nasty burn pink. Phillip got drunk that night, but Anne’s face made him stop. Then the day came when she showed off her mark. He should’ve known she would do something so bold and courageous. He should’ve known it would be so much more beautiful than his. It was the perfect ¾ view of a happy blue bird with a pink chest, unblemished. His scar tingled at seeing it, as his heart and stomach fell. Anne was a princess that deserved everything right in the world, despite what the world said about the color of her skin. Despite what his scar and her mark said. Phillip felt Anne’s stare on him. He smiled at her, but the image of his scar made him run. He avoided her. The ache came back, and it seemed to get worse. He dove into work, even getting an invite to see the Queen. He was excited to show everyone, he even forgot to avoid Anne. He came in, felt her stare, and it was like his soul sighed in relief at her presence. He presented the invitation to everyone. Then she spoke.

    “Are we all invited?” Phillip had to blink the effects her voice had on him away, then he stared at her. She was looking at him, waiting for his no. He glanced at the others. They were waiting for him to say no too. It hurt his heart that they expected him to say no, to close the door on their faces. He decided then, that he would do anything and everything in his power to make these people happy.

    “Well, I just guess I have to tell her that we all go, or none of us go.” He looked back at Anne. She beamed at him and Phillip promised himself that he would do everything in his power to deserve her.

* * *

     “So was he the one?” Lettie asked excitedly. Anne chuckled at Lettie’s excitement. They were bunked together for the trip. Anne was grateful, because out of all the troupe members, she felt the closest to Lettie. They were like sisters.

    “I don’t think he has my mark.” Anne sighed. Lettie gasped. “He practically ran like the devil was after him when he saw it. But is it weird that I want him to be the one. That I feel like he is the one?” Anne looked to Lettie. Lettie wasn’t marked, but she still held sympathy in her eyes.

    “I once met a couple where one was marked and the other wasn’t marked. The man lost his marked wife, but his new wife helped him get through it. They were happy.” Lettie offered. Anne let out a sigh. She knew her soulmate wasn’t dead, so would she be betraying them? “Phillip said that soul marks were interesting.” Lettie added on.

    “What?” Anne asked, attention focused back on the present.

    “Phillip, thinks soul marks are interesting. He was taught that the were useless things because a man, especially one with money should be able to determine their own fate.” Lettie chuckled and Anne scoffed. The upper class hated soul marks. She even heard a rumor that some upperclassmen have doctors remove soul marks. “But he thinks that they are like the clouds. Some days there are none, some days there are. The clouds either provide you shade or tell you that it’s gonna rain. But the move and shift. And if clouds move and shift, why can’t fate?” Lettie sat next to Anne on the bottom bunk. Anne slept on the top bunk, but she liked to be close when talking to people.

    “So, he can get my mark?” Anne asked warily. Lettie shrugged.

    “Maybe. Soul marks aren’t like math.” Letie bumped her shoulder and Anne laughed.

    “Thanks Lettie. I really want him. He’s handsome, caring, and he makes me feel like I can conquer the world, despite how I look. Yeah, he has a drinking problem and runs when he gets uncomfortable, but he always comes back.” Anne said wistfully.

    “You like him. Honestly, it’s hard not to.” Lettie stated. Anne shook her head.

    “Lettie, it’s worse.” Anne curled up, letting the fear and excitement turn her into the child she felt like. “Lettie, I think I’m falling in love with him.”

* * *

    “You okay, Carlyle?” Phillip turned to see W.D. staring at him. He had no shirt on and loose pants. Phillip could see the whipping scars on W.D.’s back but he knew better than to ask.

    “I’m good.” Phillip said as he untied his shoes on the bottom bed. He was bunking with W.D. since he was the only one that was willing to bunk with him. The others, except for maybe Lettie and hopefully Anne, were still wary of him. He was used to it, but he felt like a kid, hoping to show them that he belonged.

    “You’re still dressed.” W.D. stated. Phillip was a little thrown off. W.D. was usually a silent man and kept to himself. Phillip had barely even spoken to him ever since he started working.

    “Um, yeah.” Phillip was hoping he wouldn’t notice, but the world was usually against him like that.

    “You’re not gonna change?” W.D. asked with suspicion. Phillip shook his head.

    “I’m comfortable as is.” Phillip said as he laid down on the bed. W.D. came and leaned over the bedpost. Phillip couldn’t stop the fear coming.

    “Those nice clothes of yours will get ruined.” W.D. stated. Phillip nodded.

    “Yep.” He knew what W.D. really wanted, but it was never going to happen. W.D. sighed.

    “Our momma believed Anne would find him.” W.D.’s voice was firm and his shoulders were tense. Phillip ignored his fear and focused on W.D.’s words. “She wanted her to get a happy endin’. I’m gonna make sure that’s gonna happen.” As soon as he finished, he jumped into the top bunk. Phillip laid there, processing W.D.’s speech. Phillip’s blamed his sudden courage on the image of a future with Anne, and maybe even her as a mother talking to their child about soul marks. For he knew that he would never get up from the bed, take his shirt off and step into the light, yet here he was waiting for W.D. to say something. “Jesus.” W.D.’s small gasp made him wince.

    “Please, please don’t tell her.” Phillip begged. “I, I would rather she think I didn’t have one than see, see this.” Phillip couldn’t stop the trembling. He felt like he was waiting for the knife or the iron.

    “Okay.” Phillip let out a sigh at W.D.’s mutter. Phillip quickly put his shirt back on, turned off the light, and jumped into bed. He curled into himself, still trembling. He tried to quiet his shuddering breath. “We were caught climbing trees.” Phillip froze at W.D.’s voice. “Our master at the time thought that we should’ve been workin’. Me and Anne wanted to climb instead. He caught us and was gonna whip us both. Anne cried, more scared of her mark bein’ messed up then the punishment. For some reason, his wife took pity on Anne. She kneeled in grits and I got whipped. Next week, our momma put us on a train north.” Phillip’s breath had become even and the trembling wasn’t as violent when W.D. stopped. The silence wasn’t tense, but it wasn’t comfortable either it just was.

    “Every year,” Phillip gulped. He put his flask on the nightstand but he didn’t want to move, an overwhelming weariness taking over him. “A doctor came over. My parents said something was wrong with me and they had to fix it. It never did.” W.D.’s soft grunt settled his stomach and heart more than whiskey ever did. Maybe Phillip finally found a true friend.

* * *

 They were just staring at her. Not sneering or gazing, just staring. Anne thought London would steal her breath away and people might not have looked at her like dirt. Yet, her she was, hiding behind her brother as she pulled at the tiny cover to her costume. Not even Phillip’s constant glances at her made her feel pretty. So that night when she and Lettie found packages in their rooms, Anne felt the smile on her cheeks. Lettie’s box came with a beautiful turquoise gown. Hers came with a lavish butterfly dress that covered all of her body, a little hat, and a note.

   “They say that no man can define beauty for it is in the eye of the beholder, but you are not a man. You are Anne Wheeler, definition of beauty.”

* * *

 Phillip never understood the word jealousy until today. He did not doubt Anne’s faithfulness, but he still wanted to wrap her in his coat and take her far away. He wanted to protect her, wipe the insecurity from her frown. It wasn’t fair that Phineas expected the troupe to wear their costumes but Phineas and himself were to wear tailcoats. For once, Phillip didn’t drink away the tight buzz underneath his scar. Instead, Phillip did something about it. He made sure that everyone had clothes for the performance that night. He had connections, and maybe the tailor and his wife were romantics. He knows they read the note he left for Anne’s package. Why else would they charge him the whole ticket minus the most expensive dress?

* * *

 It wasn’t exactly the theater and it wasn’t exactly the best seats in the house, but Anne was willing to settle. Or maybe her happiness from the note hadn’t faded. Everyone from the troupe had been giving her knowing looks, especially Lettie and W.D. Although the feeling did fade a bit when she heard P.T. call them sideshows. Everyone’s mood fell.

    “So much for being special and unique.” Charles scoffed. Anne let out a sigh. She knew it would happen sooner or later, her and W.D. talked about it when they first got hired. They were interesting enough for P.T. now, but how long would that last? The sudden warmth from her mark stopped Anne’s thoughts. Phillip slipped between everyone and stood next to her. It was the closest they had been since he came. Because every time she came near him, her left hand would automatically reach for him. And them being them, it could never happen. But they were in London, she was the definition of beauty, and he touched her. Anne sucked in a breath as the warmth from her mark consumed her. She could smell his musky cologne with a dash of forest after a rain. She could feel his heartbeat match hers. She could hear Jenny Lind’s song as if it came from her heart. Because Anne knew that intertwining her hand with Phillip’s would never be enough for her. He didn’t have a mark (her brother reassured it, albeit oddly) but it was perfect, it was right, he let go. Anne looked at him to see him glance at something. She followed his glance to a couple staring at them, shock and disgust in their eyes. She looked back at Phillip and he ignored her. So she left. She left the stares, the back that she was shoved in, the pain in her mark, she left him.

* * *

    “Too visible.” Phillip scoffed. He could not believe Phineas. He treated the troupe like they were toys. He had a new one so the old one was cast aside. Phillip wouldn’t let what Phineas did dictate his actions. Phillip went to the standing area. He immediately found Anne near the front. He squeezed past everyone and stood next to her, just as Jenny began to sing. It was captivating. With her sweet song, the bright colors on stage, and Anne’s presence practically melting him, Phillip couldn’t help but give in to everything he usually avoided with a drink. He let his hand brush against Anne’s, but the simple touch wasn’t enough. His scar thrummed at the contact, edging him to go further, but it was his soul that won Phillip over. It craved Anne. He put his hand in hers. He heard hear inhale, and Phillip tried to focus on the sparkling white dress Jenny wore to keep his thoughts pure. She closed her hand in his, and for a moment, everything was right again. Phillip could barely believe how right the world was, holding her hand. Suddenly a chill ran down his back. Phillip looked over, and saw his parents. Their aghast looks, terrified him. The terror made him let go, it froze him. He couldn’t even look at Anne. He held in the tears as Anne left, taking his heart with her.

* * *

 Anne checked herself in the mirror once again. She was glad for the night off. It gave her a chance to relax and try to enjoy something. Lately, her moods ranged from extremely irritated to exhausted. Her mark always being sore and aching didn’t help. She tried being as corridal and nice as she could, except when it came to Carlyle. She just avoided him. Which she barely saw him so he must be doing the same thing, coward. Anne grimaced as her mark got a sharp pain. Anne grunted and shook her head. She couldn’t believe that she was going to let go of everything for him, reality, her life, her soulmate, for a man that was just passing by. Worst of all, she hated how she still wanted to. Anne shook her head. She was going to the theater. P.T. left her a ticket, seeing that she needed a day off and she was going to take full advantage of it.

   “Um, Mister Barnum left a ticket for me.” The sideway glance the man in the booth gave Anne grated her nerves. Which only upset her more since she could usually brush it off.  The man hesitantly handed her two tickets. “I, I think there is a mistake. There’s only supposed to be one.”

   “There isn’t a mistake.” Anne tensed at the voice, but her mark relaxed, assuring her that Philip Carlyle stood next to her. She turned and looked down at him. He just stared at her, worry and hope in his eyes. “I wasn’t sure if you would come if I asked.” She wanted to say something snarky, to push him away, but when he offered her his arm she took it. She let him lead her to the show. She stopped and stared up the stairs.

   “I’ve always wanted to go to the theater.” Anne said wistfully. She smiled at Phillip softly. Yes, what he did hurt her but in that moment she felt complete and she was at the theater. They went up the stairs.

   “Phillip!” Anne turned her head at the stern call. She saw the couple from Jenny Lind’s concert. This time though, Anne felt something almost sinister in their presence. Or maybe it was this weird instinct to get closer to Phillip.

    “Mother, Father,” Phillip nodded to them. Anne held in her squirm at the formality. “This is, Anne Wheeler.” He glanced at her and Anne almost blushed at the tenderness he spoke her name. When she looked back to Phillip’s parents, she almost let go of him. The disgust and disappointment in their eyes as clear as day. Now she could understand why he let her go.

    “Phillip,” the disdain Phillip’s father spoke with almost made Anne flinch. “What do you think you are doing parading around with,” Phillip’s father finally turned to her, making Anne tense. “The help.” He spat. Reality slammed into Anne again. They could choose each other all they wanted, but fact is, they weren’t even destined for one another and forget about society accepting them. It could never be a happy ending. Anne ran, ignoring the sharp pain of her mark, ignoring Phillip’s calls, ignoring the tears in her eyes.

* * *

      “How dare you speak to her like that.” Phillip turned back to his father and mother. He had watched Anne run and saw the tears in her eyes. His scar burned, and it wasn’t because of the appointment they had made him attend when they came back from London. He had to go after Anne. His mother caught his wrist.

     “Phillip you are forgetting your place.” His mother warned. “Don’t let that, thing, influence you.” Phillip knew it was a mistake to say that Anne had a mark like his scar. He was in pain and let it slip. Now they thought she was wrong like his scar. But she was the only thing right. He pulled his hand out of his mother’s.

    “That thing, is not influencing me. I am making my own decisions and if this is my place, I want no part in it.” Phillip left them and followed Anne. He ran, ignoring his throbbing and aching scar. He stopped when he reached the museum. He went blindly, trusting his scar, destiny, either one lead him to the arena. Anne sat in the stands in her practice garb, her mark showing somewhat. She was wrapping her hands for practice. She didn’t react to him, so he went forward and knelt in front of her. He relished in the cool relief on his scar that her presence gave him. “They are small minded people.” He reached for her hand, she pulled it to her chest and gave him a stern glare. It sent a stab of pain through his scar, but he saw the twitch in her eye. It hurt her too. Phillip drew his hands back slowly, despite the continuous stabs of pain it gave him. Anne watched, her mouth set in a thin line. Then she went back to wrapping her hands. Phillip stared at Anne. She had been angry at him for a while and was not afraid to show him or the world that anger. She swung in the air like a bird, but she had no wings. “Why do you care what they think?” Anne shook her head.

     “It’s not just them.” She said finally looking at him. “You haven’t had someone stare at you like they stared at me.” Phillip’s heart broke at those words. Anne looked away from him and finished wrapping her hands roughly. “The way everyone would stare at us if we,” Anne didn’t finish as she stood up. “I have a mark, you don’t.” Anne stated as she walked away. Phillip watched her go, but the stabs of pain helped kick him into action.

    “So?” Phillip stood and followed Anne. “I want you, that’s not a secret nor is it a mark.” Anne refused to even look at him, focusing on her practice. “And you want me, or you would have left me at the theater.” Anne turned from him and pulled a rope between them. She was still avoiding him, but she let him on the floor with her. “Mark, society, who cares? We can make this work. You’re my destiny and nothing can stop that. We can rewrite the stars if we have to. Just say it and I will. I will make the world yours, even if it’s just for a night!” Anne was trying to put as much distance between them as possible, yet there were times he could see her smile, and almost give in. But ultimately he lost her to the sky. He looked around, feeling that she was still in the room, just not sure where.

   “You think it’s easy to ignore my heart.” Phillip looked up and there was Anne, descending into his view like an angel, in a hoop. “To ignore you. But there are things that we cannot change.” Phillip saw how she glanced behind her left shoulder. She was back to his level again, with her hoop. “In these walls, sure it looks like things can change, but out there, things can’t be rewritten. So how can you say that you will rewrite the stars?” Phillip had been trying to stop her, to get her back down but she always managed to be in the air. “Reality is, no one can, no matter how much they want to.” Phillip wondered how she got on the banister. Then she was swinging towards him. He caught her mid-swing, landing on his back and her on top of him. He gasped in pain, but then she was caressing his face. “I am not your destiny.” Then she pulled on a rope and was in the air again.

    “Then at least let me fly with you.” Phillip begged. This time when she swung towards him, he grabbed the rope. In sync somehow, they swung together. A smile began forming on Anne’s face. She let go and went to the ground.

    “Fall with me.” She whispered, her hand out. Phillip smiled and reached for her. She pulled him down. They looked at each other, and Phillip felt a spark in his shoulder and heart. He ran to another rope, and swung to Anne. She was swinging to him. Suddenly, she was in his arms and they were wrapping around each other. Anne was beaming and her dark eyes were lit with stars. He came back to the ground, but Anne was still in the air. Phillip ignored the ache of his shoulder and climbed the balcony. He was not going to let her go, and this thought drove him to jump onto the rope she was swinging on. They stared at each other eyes. In that moment Phillip realized that his world was Anne, he loved her. They both came back to the ground. His scar itched, and not just physically. He could feel her breath on his face, and he wanted to make their breaths one. But he felt how her hands shook. Anne stared at him.

    “I want you, despite everything, even my mark. But at the end of the day, nothing has changed. Even if you were marked, there’s no happy ending for us. Let’s just save us both the trouble.” Anne whispered. She moved his hands off of her and left. Her steps were sure and hard. Each step was a stab in his heart and scar. But he let her go.

* * *

 Anne hated her mark pain. Heat, ice, herbs, ointment, nothing could alleviate her pain except for trapeze and now Phillip. But Phillip was not an option. She needed to stay grounded in reality. Phillip made her feel like she could fly and conquer the world. Anything was hers for the taking, but that was not so. Protesters grew every night, and she was freak for being a different color and having a mark. Yes, Phillip joined them as Ringmaster, now since P.T. was enjoying his new toy, but he wasn’t one of them. At least that’s what Anne told herself. She could see that he cared too much about them all to not be apart of the Circus. He made sure everyone knew where there props were, that all the animals were taken care of, and that everyone stayed safe. Although, she was giving him a hard time with that, and she knew it.  But the more risky the stunt, the more she had to practice, and the more she practiced, the less she felt the pain. Although that was not always the case. One night she let go, having people catch her at the bottom. She felt his stare, felt the stab of pain in her mark, felt the wind knock out of her, even afterwards. When she turned to him, she could see his shoulders shaking as he walked away. What surprised her more that night, as she removed her wig at her dressing area was W.D.’s anger. He was angry that he didn’t know about the risk, that she was pushing him out, and that she scared the living daylights out of Phillip.

   “What do you care? I thought you would be happy that I let go of that fantasy.” Anne huffed. W.D. sighed.

   “The idiot grows on you.” He said simply. “But the point here is that you’re gettin’ risky again. What happened?” W.D. said keeping on track. Anne put her brush down, and looked at the stars.

   “Reality.”

* * *

Phillip sat in his chair in the office as he stared at the unopened bottle. It was begging him to take a drink, to drown. Anne was letting go of him by doing life threatening stunts, Phineas was abandoning the Circus to him, which was a horrible idea since people nor the troupe wanted him, he lost his biological family, protesters still grew, and his scar kept reopening. If he drowned in whiskey, he wouldn’t feel anything. He reached for the bottle. A knock at the door made him jump,and he knocked the bottle to the floor. It landed with a shatter. Phillip stared at the shattered bottle.

   “Phillip!” The door opened and W.D. rushed in.

   “W.D.,” Phillip sighed. “I was just going to get you,” W.D. was shaking his head, making Phillip slow down to a stop. Then Charity moved out from behind W.D.

   “Goodness! Are you okay Phillip?” Charity asked with concern.

   “Ch-Charity?” Phillip cleared his throat nervously. “What are you doing here?” Charity narrowed her eyes at him.

   “You never showed up for dinner. The girls and I were worried.” Guilt washed over Phillip. He remembered promising the girls that he would be at dinner. Even Charity smiled when he said yes. Now he let them down.

   “Yes! I am so sorry I forgot, I just got so busy.” Phillip turned to get his jacket. “Let me-” Charity’s gasp made him freeze.

   “I’ll get the stuff.” W.D. said gruffly as he stepped around the broken bottle. Phillip let out a groan. He knew that his scar reopened, but he didn’t realize it was that bad.

   “What, what happened?” Charity asked. Phillip turned back to Charity. She was staring at him, her eyes full of worry. The same worry that she used when her kids talked about Phineas being gone, or when Caroline talked about the girls that bullied her in class. But this time, it was for him.

   “Nothing, an old scar reopened.” Phillip tried to wave her concern away. “It’ll be fine. With W.D.’s help, I’ll be out in a minute. I can meet you outside.” Phillip smiled, hoping she would buy it. W.D. came in with a bowl, a rag, the needle, and another bottle of whiskey. Charity glanced at the items as W.D. set them up.

   “Is that so?” Charity said slowly. She looked back to Phillip with a smile. “Well if it will only take a while, I can stay.” She said as she took a seat on the cot in the office. Phillip fisted his hands and tried to hold his smile.

   “You don’t have to stay, you can go. I’m going to be indecent anyway.” Phillip tried one more time to get her to leave. She sighed and shook his head.

   “Phillip.” She said sternly. He usually smiled when she used that tone with Caroline and Helen, seeing how mothering came so naturally to Charity. Now the mothering was used on him and he felt like he was five years old again. Phillip shuffled to the floor and sat in front of W.D.

   “Ready?” W.D. asked and Phillip nodded. He unbuttoned the top of his shirt and moved it off of his right shoulder. W.D. moved the part on his left shoulder. “Jesus.”

   “Oh my,” Charity gasped. Phillip winced at both of their gasps.

   “That bad?” Phillip asked.

   “Well, between worryin’ about you and Anne, I think I might have to worry about you more.” W.D. huffed.

   “Wow, after the stunt she pulled yesterday, that must mean it’s really bad.” Phillip said softly.

   “Is that her mark?” Charity asked softly. Phillip tensed at Charity’s question.

   “It’s a scar.” Phillip grounded out. “An ugly one at that.” Phillip sneered. “After our trip to London, my parents tried fixing it by having a doctor cut it off then cauterize it. It reopens every once in awhile.” Phillip explained as W.D. wiped his shoulder.

   “And being the only one that knows about this, I get to help the idiot clean it up.” W.D. gruffed out.

   “Ah!” Phillip cringed when W.D. hit a tender spot. W.D. removed his hand.

   “That is, deep.” W.D. said quietly.

   “At least it’s not infected.” Phillip offered with a small smile.

   “Carlyle, I swear, you’re gonna end up in the hospital one day.” W.D. growled.

* * *

Anne threaded her fingers through her hair. They just finished a show, and there was more protesters than audience members. It made everyone on edge. Then her mark was giving her sharp pains and dread followed her around. She was glad to get this day over with. Then she started smelling smoke. She whipped her head up to see the other performers with her noticed it too.

   “Fire!” Someone yelled, and that’s when the panic started. Everyone was rushing to get there things or rushing to get out. Anne could barely move without getting hit by someone. Panic grew when smoke filled the air and the cracklings of fire eating away their home echoed all around them. Anne helped who she could, trying to get everyone out the back. The fire was fast, and the sweltering heat slowed them down, especially Anne. The smoke, the heat, and her aching body made it hard for her to move. She was the last one to get out of the dressing area. She was practically trying to outrun the growing fire. She jumped out of the back doorway. She went around, hoping her brother made it out. She saw him staring at the fire, horror on his face.

   “W.D.!” Anne called and she ran into his arms. They hugged each other tightly. That’s when Anne noticed her mark’s intense throbbing. She glanced around the crowd that gathered to watch their home burn. P.T. and his family where even there. Everyone was but one person. “Where’s Phillip?” Anne felt W.D.’s hold on her tightened. Anne looked up at him, but he was looking at the fire. “Where’s Phillip?” Anne yelled frantically, trying to escape W.D.’s hold. Then she saw P.T. go into the roaring fire, his girls screaming after him.

   “We couldn’t find you.” W.D. said simply, but those words shattered Anne’s heart. Phillip went in for her. She pushed him away, and he was risking his life for her. A crash from within the building made Anne jump. Her mark was on fire, and a searing pain filled her body. She squeezed closer to W.D., praying and pleading for Phillip and P.T. to come through the doorway. Another crack and Anne winced. She stared at the fire as it devoured her world. Then a figure was coming through the doorway. Anne sobbed as P.T. came out, Phillip across his shoulders. He stumbled to them and put Phillip on the ground.

    “He’s breathing but hurt.” P.T. yelled, and Anne slumped into W.D.’s arms. Phillip was alive, he was breathing. He was leaving. People were lifting him up out of her sights. Anne slipped out of W.D.’s hold and followed them. They quickly put Phillip in a ambulance carriage and drove away. Anne ran after them, her mark throbbing with her racing heart.

   “Anne! Anne!” This time Charity grabbed Anne. Anne pulled against her.

   “They’re taking Phillip away! I have to see him! He needs me!” Anne cried. W.D. came behind her and held her. Anne fought him till she was sobbing into his chest. “Phillip. Phillip.” That was the only thing she could think as W.D. lead her away. And everywhere she looked, she saw Phillip’s unconscious body struggling to breathe. Her mark burned and thrummed to her breaking heart. Somehow, they ended up at the hospital. They were approached by a doctor and when he put his hand on her shoulder sympathetically, it pulled Anne back to reality a bit.

   “He will be fine. He is a strong young man.” He said sincerely, and Anne wanted to hug him. Instead she nodded. He moved aside, and Anne saw Phillip laying in a bed the back corner. Anne blinked but Phillip didn’t disappear. Anne ran to his side. They cleaned him up a bit, but there was still ash all over his face and his eyes were still closed but she could see his chest rise and fall. Anne grabbed his hand and felt his pulse go through her. She could breathe again, she felt whole again. When she saw a chair nearby, she pulled it to his side and planted herself in it. Nothing was going to convince her or make her leave him.

* * *

    “You’re my destiny.” Phillip heard an angel sing quietly, but her voice sounded like it was full of tears. Phillip wanted to comfort the angel, to soothe her. He just had to get out of this darkness. He used the warm hand in his to pull himself out of the darkness. At first, Phillip felt pain. Pain in his chest, in his body, it hurt to breathe. He wanted to go back to the darkness, succumb to it. Then he felt the tears of the angel on his hand. Each tear was a stab to his scar. Phillip urged his eyes to open, and there was Anne. Holding his hand, tears streaking her mocha face, and her wild curly milk chocolate hair in a loose bun. Her eyes widened and a gorgeous smile graced her features. He parted his dry chapped lips, trying to push his voice out.

   “You’re here.” It wasn’t exactly what Phillip wanted to say, but it seemed enough for her. Anne nodded as she kissed his hand. He tightened his hand around hers. He wanted to wrap his arms around her and kiss her so deeply he forget that anyone else was in the world. His scar even tingled with the strength of his want. Suddenly Anne was kissing him, as if she could pour her soul into him. As if she knew what he wanted. It took a bit, for Phillip to get over the surprise and the overwhelming feeling of bliss and ecstasy, but once he did he kissed her back with as much gusto as he could. He wanted her to know that he wanted her, all of her no matter who knew. Sadly, his weak body needed air. They broke the kiss and Phillip inhaled clean air, no smoke or fire, just Anne.

   “I’m here, now and forever.” She stated with a bright watery smile. Phillip smiled, they would be all right. Until two days later.

   “If you all would like to stay and watch how to treat the burns on his back, you may.” Phillip stiffened at the doctor’s words. It was the second day of his stay at the hospital and the doctor said he should be able to go home the next day but he needed to treat the burns and show others how to care for them before he was released. Phillip tried not to focus on that, but it was here now. In front of the Barnum family, Anne, W.D., and Lettie. Phillip had a hard time breathing, leading him to another coughing fit. Anne’s hand was rubbing up and down his back lightly. Phillip tensed, worsening his coughs. He heard multiple concerned calls of his name. He relaxed and took a few deep breaths. “Maybe I should keep you for a few days.” Philip shook his head at the doctor’s words.

   “No, fine.” Phillip rasped out. Anne had a cup of water waiting for him in her hands. He took it and drank slowly.

   “Really? Cause you look like death twice over.” Helen piped out loudly. Phillip almost choked as he started laughing. It wasn’t that funny, but he always enjoyed Helen’s ability to speak her mind. After he was thoroughly finished drinking and choking, Phillip smiled at Helen.

   “Well, then I suppose I am fine for a dead man.” Phillip smirked. Helen and Caroline laughed. Everyone was smiling at their bright laughter.

   “Are you ready for me to look at those burns, Mr. Carlyle?” The doctor asked kindly. Phillip froze again. No, he was not ready, but he did not want to stay at the hospital longer. Phillip nodded absentmindedly.

   “I can take the girls outside.” Lettie offered Phineas and Chartiy.

   “Yes.” Phillip said quickly. Everyone stared at him. Phillip cleared his throat and tried to smile. “I’m not going to be fully dressed, so the ladies should leave.” Phillip offered. Phineas nodded.

   “Good idea. They’ll take the girls out for a bit.” Phineas gave a kiss on the cheek to both of them. The girls waved at Phillip sadly.

   “Don’t fall asleep okay?” Helen ordered. Phillip smiled and nodded. Helen took that and finally left. Phillip let a sigh of relief at seeing them leave. Anne took his hand and kissed it gently.

   “I’m staying.” Anne challenged. Phillip almost smiled at her fierce determination, but his throbbing scar made him avoid her eyes.

   “Okay.” Phillip swallowed down his consuming fear. It was easier with Anne there.

   “You sure you want this many people?” W.D. asked with concern.

   “We can leave if you want Phillip.” Charity offered. When Phineas began to protest she grabbed his arm roughly. Phillip took another deep breath.

   “It’s okay. I can’t keep it a secret forever.” Phillip said.

   “Plus, he will need to live with someone who will help him.” The doctor added. Phineas and Charity nodded.

   “He will be with us.” Phineas stated. Phillip wanted to object but Phineas held up his hand. “I can’t let my apprentice be untreated because he’s a stubborn independent fool.” Phineas eyed Phillip.

   “Put it mildly, why don’t you.” Phillip mumbled. Everyone chuckled.

   “Ready?” Phillip nodded but he squeezed Anne’s hand. She started rubbing circles in his hand. Phillip focused on her touch, not the doctor that approached him. Not the way everything was white and sterile. His back was throbbing and tender from the burns. He closed his eyes, breathing hard, waiting, and waiting, then his shirt was removed from his shoulders. He fisted the sheets in his other hand, trying not to hurt Anne. He felt a kiss to his temple. Phillip’s eyes shot open. He turned his head and saw Anne smiling. The sight was so beautiful and such a relief that Phillip didn’t realize the bandages were gone till the doctor spoke. “Come around everyone.” Charity whispered something into Phineas’ ear before leading him to the doctor’s right. Phillip felt the gasp and his heart shook. Anne kissed his hand but Phillip held onto her for a bit.

   “I’m so sorry.” Phillip gasped, tears spilling from his eyes. “I, I didn’t know how. I’m not even sure it’s.” Phillip’s sputtering ended in a cough.

   “Phillip,” Anne’s call relaxed him. He looked to her. “No matter what.” Anne leaned her forehead onto his and Phillip was able to breathe in her soothing scent.

   “You’re my destiny.” Phillip whispered. Anne nodded. They separated and Anne was still smiling. W.D. came around and lead her to his left side. Phillip’s gaze followed them till he couldn’t see them. He did hear Anne’s shocked cry.

    “Is, is that,” Guilt racked Phillip at Anne’s stuttering.

    “I am so sorry I didn’t tell you. My parents were trying to fix me, but it didn’t work. It just made an ugly scar. I don’t even think it counts as a mark now. I’m so sorry.” Phillip’s watery speech became wracking coughs. They made him bend over and Phillip vaguely wondered if someone could die coughing. Suddenly there was a dainty but calloused hand, Anne’s hand, on his back, specifically on his scar. He felt her legs by his sides, and the familiar warmth of want consumed him. Phillip focused on the cream in her hands. She rubbed the cream in slow gentle circles onto his back.

    “Like this right?” Anne asked the doctor.

    “Mhmm.” The doctor hummed. The doctor began explaining something to Anne and the Barnums, but Phillip wouldn’t care if the world was ending, she was touching his scar. He never felt so, complete, whole, loved. His parents never touched his scar, and the doctors that saw him were cold with it, and Phillip didn’t even let W.D. touch it. Then there was Anne. Her touch was soft and strong as she traced it. Her fingers touched every edge and detail. It was as if she was trying to memorize it. Phillip started taking shuddering breaths, holding back his tears. “Good job Miss Wheeler.” Phillip focused on the doctor’s voice. “That is how you do it. You’ll be in good hands Mister Carlyle.” Phillip nodded, not sure if he opened his mouth his cries would be heard. Anne had no more cream in her hands and he could feel the cream on the rest of his burns. Yet she still sat behind him, tracing his scar. Phillip’s shuddering increased.

    “It was always you.” Anne whispered softly, and she kissed his scar. Phillip let out a strangled cry. He couldn’t stop the tears. The relief that she still wanted him, the pure love from the kiss, how unbroken he felt, was overwhelming. Anne wrapped her arms around his waist and slightly leaned her forehead onto his scar. It was tender but Phillip leaned into her touch. He ached for it and judging by her tightened grasp, she did too. W.D. cleared his throat and they jumped, making Phillip go into a coughing fit. At the end of it, Anne was back at his side, her cheeks dark with a beautiful blush, and W.D. was glaring at him.

    “That’s what you get for doing that romance stuff in front of me.” Everyone laughed. Anne glanced at him, still blushing but there was a genuine smile on her face that Phillip could feel in their mark. When Lettie and the girls came back into his corner, smiling and laughing, with Anne holding his hand, for the first time in Phillip’s life, he felt right.

* * *

Everyone knew that the reopening night of Barnum’s Circus in the tent was going to be amazing. There would be things that were unexpected, exotic, beautiful, and unique. Yet, when the new ringmaster came out, looking suspiciously like Phillip Carlyle, the audience could feel something change. The colors became brighter and the sounds clearer. Then the ringmaster began dancing with the female trapeze artist, and it was like watching the stars dance. Each stare aligned to make them closer. Each touch just right. Finally they kissed, and in that moment no audience member, bigot, or protester could deny how destined they were. They were two birds free to fly.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for any mistakes. It's Unbeta'd. And I am working on my other work! This bunny just jumped in my head and wouldn't leave.


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